At Marine Headquarters, Marineford—
"Report to the Fleet Admiral. Identical reports have come in from all over the world. The 'heavenly screen' above us is not an isolated phenomenon. It can be seen across all four seas and the Grand Line."
Fleet Admiral Sengoku listened to the report, rubbing his temples as a headache crept in.
At first, he had assumed it was some kind of prank caused by a Devil Fruit ability.
But the situation was far more complicated than he had imagined.
"Hahaha, Sengoku, looks like even you have days like this. Being a Fleet Admiral sure is troublesome—being a Vice Admiral was much more comfortable."
The only man who would openly mock the Fleet Admiral like this was his old friend—
The Hero of the Marines, father of the Revolutionary Army's leader, grandfather of the future Pirate King… and a shameless old man who loved picking his nose and stealing snacks—
Monkey D. Garp.
"Garp, you're stealing my food again! Where does all your salary even go?"
Sengoku strode over and snatched back the rice crackers from Garp's hand, stuffing them straight into his own mouth.
These were bought with his own salary—better he eat them himself than let Garp steal them.
"A Vice Admiral's pay isn't enough for me," Garp said casually. "Why don't you file a report and get me some extra allowances?"
"In your dreams."
Sengoku had already spent considerable effort negotiating with the higher-ups just to maintain Garp's current salary. With Garp's son leading the Revolutionary Army, the World Government had every reason to strip him of his status.
The fact that he was still a Marine hero was already a concession.
After exchanging a few more jabs, the two returned to the main topic.
"This heavenly screen is a variable," Sengoku said gravely. "Anyone in the world can speak through it. The discussions are extremely active—even the Yonko crews are participating."
Garp had personally tested its "durability."
His fist, coated in top-tier Armament Haki, passed straight through the screen without touching it at all.
No effect whatsoever.
Later, Admiral Sakazuki tried as well, launching several magma attacks at it.
The result was the same.
The screen ignored all damage.
It might even surpass Devil Fruit abilities in nature.
At that moment, a white-haired elderly woman entered the room.
Marine strategist Tsuru slammed a stack of documents onto Sengoku's desk.
"Most of what's on that screen is just a bunch of bored pirates spouting nonsense. Recording all of it is pointless. Sengoku, hand this mess over to someone else."
The heavenly screen had appeared across the world ten days ago.
Under Sengoku's orders, Tsuru had been analyzing its properties while also trying to gather intelligence from its chat content.
Her findings:
Messages displayed on the screen reveal the sender's real name.
The content must be true—false statements are not recorded.
It ignores all spatial limitations—anyone, anywhere, can speak through it.
Because of this third point, the content on the screen had become extremely chaotic.
Some people searched for missing family members.
Some looked for pirate crews to join.
Others hurled insults at each other, escalating into massive arguments spanning thousands of messages—only to accidentally expose their location and get wiped out by the Marines shortly after.
With such an open communication channel, countless secrets surfaced:
Crimes of the Celestial Dragons
Brutal regimes in certain kingdoms
Hidden truths about pirate crews
Public opinion toward the Celestial Dragons had worsened significantly.
No wonder the Five Elders were pressuring the Marines to investigate this matter thoroughly.
If possible, they wanted the screen shut down entirely.
Being publicly exposed under real names was not something they enjoyed.
The problem was—
The Marines were already understaffed.
Now they had to assign personnel just to monitor this thing.
As a senior strategist, Tsuru had finally had enough and came to protest directly.
"I know it's difficult for you," Sengoku said, his tone much gentler than when speaking to Garp. "Just hold on a few more days. If nothing major happens, we'll scale back the monitoring."
Unlike Garp, Tsuru had always been reliable and had never caused trouble.
Her contributions were no less than his.
At noon, the three headed to the cafeteria together.
After all, eating government-funded meals meant saving their own money.
Suddenly—
"The screen is changing. Look!"
Tsuru pointed upward.
The chaotic flood of messages vanished instantly.
No one could speak anymore.
The screen turned pitch black.
Then—
A line of blood-red text appeared:
"In one day, a review will be conducted on Devil Fruit users who have profoundly influenced the future of the world."
"Each of them stands at the pinnacle of the seas."
"The heavenly screen will transcend time—revealing past and future."
"It will analyze their lives, uncover hidden strength, evaluate their ambitions, and display their decisive battles."
"People of the world—stay tuned!"
"…Is something like this even possible?" Garp muttered.
"To know even the future… what a shame I'm not a Devil Fruit user."
Even someone as carefree as Garp couldn't ignore this.
No one knew what the future held.
For the Marines—who had struggled to maintain order—
The existence of the Seven Warlords of the Sea system was already a humiliation to their sense of justice.
"Sengoku, do you know of any Devil Fruit with this kind of power?" Tsuru asked.
She herself no longer held much hope for her own future.
But for the Marines—for her granddaughter Kujaku—
She was deeply worried.
Things were beginning to slip beyond their control.
If the screen revealed a cruel future…
How were they supposed to face it?
"What a headache… Can't I even eat in peace?"
Sengoku pressed his temples.
"Tsuru, notify all Vice Admirals at headquarters. We're holding a meeting."
Even with the wisdom granted by his Buddha Devil Fruit, this situation was beyond anything he had encountered before.
What awaited the Marines…?
He had no idea.
It wasn't just the Marines.
The Five Elders of the World Government were even more alarmed.
They had always been wary of prophecies like those connected to Joy Boy.
Even after 800 years, they had never relaxed their vigilance.
Could this heavenly screen be related to that lingering will?
Across the seas—
Pirate crews, big and small, halted their battles the moment they heard the news.
Instead, they began celebrating.
Banquets erupted everywhere.
If they could make it onto that "review" list—
They would become famous across the entire world.
For pirates, the allure was irresistible.
Meanwhile—
Revolutionaries hidden across various kingdoms temporarily suspended their operations.
Under orders from their supreme leader, Monkey D. Dragon—
They, too, waited.
For the future…
to be revealed.